


baby i'm a dark star, oh

by Satan In Purple (purple_satan)



Series: Kylux Short Fics/Drabbles [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, Hux Thinks About Death During Sex Pass it On, Hux-centric, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kylux- Freeform, Like This Fic Is Pretty Much Them Banging The Whole Time What, M/M, Return of the Smangst, Soft Kylux Nightmare, You know All That Good Stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7794865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_satan/pseuds/Satan%20In%20Purple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"You're destined for greatness," Ren tells him, eyes shining like twin stars, burning in the vastness of space. "We both are. Together." </em>
</p><p>Hux should have never fallen, but he did. Somehow Ren is there to catch him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby i'm a dark star, oh

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to do soft Kylux and it kind of turned into a dark, incredibly smutty nightmare. I’m sorry. Like summoning an eldritch horror from the depths of the ocean, my brain is here to destroy your fluffy soft Kylux. Oops. Written while listening to ["Dark Star"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5NTw50gYp20) by Jaymes Young, a really fantastic song. Up to you which one you think I interpreted the song as about ;)

\--

 

The first time Ren tells him, Hux ignores it in favor of burying his face further into the bed as Ren fucks him harder. Chalks it up to a spur of the moment thing, poignantly disregarding the way Ren looks at him differently now. Not like a man that has won a hard-earned prize, but more like a man who has found something prized he once lost. Because Hux doesn’t believe in it as anything other than a ruinous machination, the kind of sentimentality that brings true power to its knees. He’s seen it before, of course-- _hasn’t everyone?_ But he has never truly known it, never truly wanted it.

Kylo Ren must have known love as a child, as Ben Solo.

For all the appalling emotional outbursts he shows, love must have been an emotion he was made privy to as well. Something he _knew_. At some point in his miserable existence someone must have shown him what it was and praised him for reciprocating it. Those moments monumental enough for him to cling to that shred of humanity, nurture it. Even with everything else his training with Snoke was meant to extinguish, purge from his soul, this one fanciful notion must have somehow stuck. Wormed its way between the chinks in his mental armor and made its way into his heart like a blight. A disgusting rot. A disease intent on spreading itself, inflicting others.

Hux reassures himself they still argue, even though it doesn't have the same bite it did before they fell into each other’s beds. Ren still damages his ship, but now it looks more strategically in less critical areas. Like an apology of sorts beforehand. And now he insists on walking around _The Finalizer_ without his helmet on, like a taunt. It's a dare, obviously. Not because Kylo knows Hux likes his unmasked face.

Because he doesn’t. He _hates it._

Just because now that Hux knows what it's like to have kissed those plush lips, to have had them wrapped around his cock and begging for more, doesn't mean he likes it.

He’s a General, for fuck's sake. A crowning jewel as far as military ranking goes, an exemplary soldier. One of the finest the First Order has ever seen. His father the Commandant saw to that, despite his deplorable lineage, made him work for having the last name Hux. So he found greatness. Not for his parents, but for himself. To prove to his father he wasn't a weak boy, an unworthy boy. 

However, he is also aware that he is ultimately replaceable. Someone could be promoted and learn his job. It would not be easy, but it is feasible enough Hux does not bask in the glow of job security. Especially now how dangerous it is Snoke’s prized pupil has taken such an interest in him, an attachment to him, the kind of which could easily lead to certain doom. For Ren to become so enraptured with him only spells inevitable disaster for him, possibly even both of them, if they don't have Snoke’s blessing. A blessing which would be ludicrous to give.

Even so, he doesn’t stop their dangerous meetings. He doesn't force Ren out of his quarters when he arrives at his doors at night. Doesn’t disregard the pained, plaintive comms for him like he probably should or refuse to tend to Ren's wounds when he comes back from a fresh new beating. He doesn't stop Ren from mouthing words of longing on his his skin, painting him with the firebrand of his obsession, his madness slowly spreading to them both.

Ren comes with a groan, collapsing into a boneless heap on Hux’s chest for one terrifyingly long moment. Then he’s rolling off of him, still panting. He gives Hux a look like he hung the very stars in the sky before dipping his head down and kissing him gently, imploringly. His thumb traces Hux's sharp cheekbone. It finds rest on its journey south at his fluttering pulse, Ren's large hand a heavy weight on his shoulder. Hux freezes, whole body tensed until Ren coaxes his tongue into his mouth and kisses him harder. He presses kisses down Hux's neck, peppering his collarbones, laving each pink nipple. He continues his descent until he finally meets narrow hips, pressing his thumbs into them hard enough to leave bruises that will purple in morning.

Ren stops abruptly, looking Hux in the eyes. His are hooded, a lazy smile on his face.

“Tell me you want me.”

Hux swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing like a dying thing, sinking into murky water instead of swimming. He knows Ren will stop if he outright says no, yet nods anyway. His auburn hair falls into his eyes as he thumps his head back on the mattress with a groan and gives in.

_"Tell me."_

"Stars, _yes._ Fucking suck my cock, Ren. Go on."

When Ren finally meets the thatch of auburn hair above where Hux wants him most with his mouth, he already feels swallowed whole. And Ren hasn't even touched his cock yet.

 

\--

 

_"I'll end this war," he says one day, lazily. Satiated. A cigarra dangling from his fingers, half-lit. He takes a drag, mouth moving to make rings of smoke that dissipate in the recycled air of his quarters._

_Ren gives him a queer look, trails long fingers down Hux's arm. He can feel the gentle press of Ren rifling his way through his mind, tries not to fight back at the sensation._

_"You're destined for greatness," Ren tells him, eyes shining like twin stars, burning in the vastness of space. "We both are. Together."_

 

It was the first night of many nights, Hux high on Ren's praises and even higher still on the flush of not just good sex, but great sex from such an unlikely source.

He should have stopped that night, but he wasn't thinking of the comedown. Of the repercussions. Of the fall.

 

\--

 

They’re fucking again, Ren's too-huge cock up his ass, when he wonders if one day Ren will kill him.

Tonight the thought excites him, his cock obscenely hard at the notion. He's weeping on the sheets underneath him, precome dribbling from the slit. Ren has his hands around Hux's hips, thrusting into his ass the second time that night and Hux is teetering on the edge of reckless abandon. Like the edge of a knife blade, waiting for it to slice him to ribbons. He fists his cock in his spit and cum-slicked hand, wonders if Snoke will give the order to kill or if Ren will do it of his own volition. If it’ll be before or after he ends the war. He jacks himself off as he wonders if he will have a crown when it happens, a throne to sit upon before he feels the sizzle of Ren’s ridiculous lightsaber spitting at his throat.

Would he sever his head or go straight for the heart? He doesn't think Ren has it in him to make Hux suffer more than he already is. Ren is cruel, yes. And very capable in his cruelty. But for this task he imagines something clean, a cauterized wound. Not a drop of blood spilled on his lover's hands. His whole body tenses, clamping around Ren’s cock inside him as he’s wracked with pleasure at the thought. He releases thick ropes of cum on the sheets below him, thinking about if Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, in all of his formidable masked glory will cry over his mutilated body in public or only in private. If seeing his General, _his love_ , lifeless will extinguish the last bit of humanity he has left Snoke could not.

It brings a bitter smile to his face as he wonders if maybe he too can wreck Ren in the process, with the borrowed time he has left.

Hux wonders. Oh, _he wonders._

Ren pulls out of him, spent. His cum isn’t even trickling out of Hux's ass before Ren puts a hand on his temple, shushing him and running his huge fingers gently through Hux's sweat-dampened hair. Ren murmurs words of consolation in his ear like a twisted lullaby. Almost instantaneously drowsiness replaces any worry he has or has ever had. Even his distaste to feel his own cum cooling against his side, Ren's running down his thigh, lacks the sort of urgency or importance it normally would.

He feels great warm arms cradle him, nuzzling his neck. Pulling him under. He knows what Ren is doing, what he did. But he’s too tired to protest, limbs heavy and mind fuzzy. He falls into a slumber, the likes of which he hasn’t felt in years.

That night he dreams of technicolor ships exploding overhead, blotting out the twinkle of stars like Ren's glittering eyes. Thick layers of ash settling in his hair, on his coat, like Arkanian snow. The taste of acrid ozone hanging around him like a lightning strike. He dreams of being on a long narrow bridge, the belly of a great machine. The whirring and humming around him the inside of a macabre mechanical womb that will birth him his path greatness. Its beautiful, the machine he's in, the machine he's made. Beautiful and _deadly._

But something is wrong. He falters when he steps, feet not quite lining up as they should. The bridge sways. He plummets to his doom, betrayed by the very thing he created, a flurry of snow-like ash surrounding him.

 

He falls, screaming into the maw of the machine as darkness threatens to swallow him whole.

Somehow Ren is there to catch him.

 

\--

 

The next time Ren tells him he’s propped up on his elbows, fucking Ren in deep, long strokes that leave them both babbling nonsense to each other, gasping and sweat-slicked. Ren arches underneath him, catching his lips in a careless kiss that is deceptively sweet in its gentleness. Something heavy and rancid churns in Hux’s mind, roils in his gut as Ren kisses him. It takes all of his effort to pull out of Ren and flop onto the bed, making sure he isn’t touching him as he flings an arm over his eyes and dims the lights to ten percent.

A bewildered Ren props himself up on one elbow to look at him. Hux can practically feel Ren’s brown eyes raking over his pale body, the smattering of freckles on his limbs, his flushed cock still erect and weeping.  

He should have never fallen, but he did. _And here he is now._

“You don’t want this,” Hux says, sighing as he cracks open one pale eye to regard him.

“Who are you to tell me what I want?”

 Worry tinges the edges of Ren's voice. He sounds lost, broken.

 _I don’t want this_ , Hux thinks. But the lie sounds pathetic even in his head. He tries to hide the way his body trembles as a shiver, sweat cooling on his body. Fails.

Ren, of course, notices it immediately.

“I don’t believe you,” he answers vehemently, wrapping one of his too-large hands around Hux’s cock. He strokes it once, still uncertain.

When Hux doesn’t protest, he does it again. And again. Hux can feel the undertow about to suck him under, drag him down into the inky black depths of depravity, of ruin. He’ll end up no better than his mother, completely and utterly destroyed over a useless emotion. Something he never wanted Ren gave him like a curse, a rot, a blight. He wonders if others can see it on him, even with his clothes on, with his defenses up. Surely being the love of Kylo Ren only spells doom for its intended, marks their soul indelibly. Each kiss he willingly let him give a brand on his soul now corrupted, contaminated.

“Don’t worry Hux, I feel it too,” Ren whispers in his ear, far less broken than before. The ends of his hair tickle Hux’s cheek, desire licking its way up his spine, coiling tight inside of him. “Its the pull to something greater than us both, the Force. I can give you what you want, if you just let me.”

Ren thinks his love is some mystical thing the Force gave him. A consolation prize for his obedience to it. Hux sneers at the thought. He would.

_Don’t fight it, Hux. Embrace it._

He groans, supernovas exploding behind his eyelids, galaxies coalescing in their wake. Hux comes in spurts on his stomach, on Ren’s hand around his cock. And he falls, tumbling towards something Ren had no right to give or right to have from him.

 

Hux falls, but Ren catches him.

As he always does.

**Author's Note:**

> for more kylux hell, weird ass writing shit and fandom wank, follow me on tumblr @ [purple-satan-fic](http://purple-satan-fic.tumblr.com/) !


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